More Like Them
by eskalations
Summary: "I'm so sorry, Dad," His voice began to quiver as he felt the tears beginning to form, "I knew the United Forces would require violence at times but I didn't want it to change who I was. I've done the one thing that I know you could never live with."


A/N: I haven't written anything in awhile so this felt really strange. This one may be a bit off given that I took a break from fanfiction for awhile, but it's a start. Hopefully once I start writing more, I will get into the swing of things once again.

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters.

* * *

Bumi groaned as he rolled over in bed once more, the comfort he had once found beneath the sheets escaping him as he buried his face in the fabric of his pillow.

Why was it all of a sudden so hot in his room? He had left the window open in hopes that it would cool everything down but obviously that wasn't working. He had even worn the lightweight pajamas his mother had saved for him from the summer months back when he was a teen in an attempt to ward off the heat. Finally he kicked his sheets to the side, allowing the cool autumn air to roll over his back but to no avail.

What was wrong with him?

"Maybe it's just being in a new place," He tried telling himself, though he knew there was little likeliness behind that theory. He was on Air Temple Island, his old home. This was not new.

Rolling over on to his back once more, his eyes stared determinedly at the ceiling. It was as though he couldn't shut his mind off no matter how hard he tried. A distraction was probably in order.

"One crack," He mumbled to himself, his eyes gracing over the ceiling as he searched for another imperfection in the plaster, "Two cracks, three cracks."

There were no more. A disappointed sigh escaped his lips.

"One koala sheep, two koala sheep," He closed his eyes trying to picture the small creatures jumping over the fence that lined the back of the air temple, "Three, four…"

But when his eyes were closed, it wasn't the sheep he saw in front of him, frolicking among the grass and hopping over the wooden posts. He would be lucky if he could ever imagine such a scene again after everything that had happened. All he saw was red.

"Five, six – " He continued on with determination, fighting against the strength of his own mind. He could practically smell smoke now; he could see the flames finding their way up his eyelids, the heat nearly unbearable against his sensitive skin, "Seven, eight, nine…"

The moment he could feel the flames licking at his lashes, he had to open his eyes. With a heavy breath, he sat up against his headboard and put his head in his hands. A catowl sounded outside of his window, the sorrow in its tone matching the feeling he harbored within his heart.

What had he done?

Just a few days ago he had been fine but now time seemed to stretch on forever, every moment a constant reminder of what he had been driven to do.

"I had no choice," He tried reasoning with himself, tanned hands running through his thick locks, fingernails nipping at his skin as he tried to will himself to believe what he was saying. No matter what he said though, it didn't change what had happened.

He had killed a man.

He squeezed his eyes shut at the turn of his thoughts, but he couldn't hide himself from the truth. He had killed a man and he had done so willingly.

That was the reason they had sent him home for awhile in the first place. Apparently he wasn't ready for the hardships of war if he wasn't willing to kill to win. But he had done so and for a few days he had been okay, until his thoughts had caught up with him.

After a round of night terrors that had scared his bunk mates and a few cases of panic attacks, he had been sent back to the Air Temple for a time of recovery to get over the stress of what he had done.

But it wasn't working. Nothing was working.

His parents didn't know why he was home; they just thought he was on leave for the time being. They had welcomed him back with open arms, his mother excitedly telling him that she had made his favorite meal in honor of his return.

"Sea prunes for my favorite soldier," Her tone had been so soft, her eyes so full of pride, "I didn't think I would get to make them for you so soon, but I'm happy I did."

His stomach dropped when she said that, but he smiled nonetheless. If only she knew what her favorite soldier had done, then maybe her reaction would have been a little different.

He kept his mouth shut at dinner though, only speaking when asked a question. His father asked about what the front line of the rebellion looked like and he told him that they honestly didn't look so good. People were dying every day, laying in pools of their own blood right in front of him while he continued to fight on rather than mourn for the fallen. Warfare was ugly, nobody at the table had to be told twice.

Other than his brother and sister asking him about what kind of friends he had made, everyone stayed relatively quiet. They could tell the twenty-year-old wasn't exactly feeling up to all their questions so they instead focused on eating their dinner, one of which the Avatar kept jokingly complaining about while his wife rolled her eyes. The normality his family displayed caused Bumi to feel even worse than before.

He had turned in early, thinking that maybe if he started trying to go to bed a little earlier he may have a chance at a decent night's sleep, but it looked like he wasn't going to get that luxury.

His eyes turned to the window, the full moon taking up most of the sky from his viewpoint. He could hear the sound of the waves crashing against the shore that surrounded the island, his sister surely walking around in the sand as the water called out to her. He guessed his mother was probably walking the beach with her too.

With his heart still racing, Bumi released another groan. He wasn't escaping this feeling any time soon, that much he knew. He could feel his hands beginning to tingle as panic began to sink in.

Something had him standing up in that moment, his feet nearly getting tangled up in the sheets he had kicked off earlier. He needed to talk to his father, he couldn't go on like this any longer.

Hands shaking, he slid the door to the side that led to the hallway. Peering over to the right, he could see that the light in his father's study was still on. That was both a relief and a disappointment.

He walked slowly to the place his father considered a haven, hands still shaking and legs almost refusing not to work. A cold sweat was already forming on his brow as he lifted a hand to knock on the door, but he never got the chance to.

Sensing his presence, his father had already opened it.

"Bumi," His voice was curious, his eyes taking in the man's appearance. The boy's hair was more tousled than usual proof of a rough night of tossing and turning. "Are you having trouble sleeping?"

The young man in question released a nervous laugh, shrugging his shoulders, "Yeah, I guess even though I'm not a waterbender, the full moon just likes to keep me awake."

Aang's brow rose at his son's odd behavior, "Is something bothering you?"

"Uh," Bumi's voice cracked slightly, the sound instantly alerting his father that something was wrong, "I don't really know."

Unsatisfied with the answer, the Avatar ushered the boy in to his study although he protested the entire way. After closing the door behind him, Aang turned to the young man who was now standing nervously in the middle of the room, his eyes determinedly trying to avoid his father's gaze.

"Bumi," He said once more, trying to grab the man's attention, "I'm being serious. Is there anything wrong?"

The young man's silver gaze finally locked on to his father's identical one. The shaking in his hands continued, a lump forming in his throat as he tried to swallow around it.

"I did something, Dad"

Aang walked closer to his son, his brows lifted in a way that told him to continue.

"Something really bad," Bumi insisted quietly, his eyes sliding to the floor. Aang recognized this look. This was the same look Bumi wore before being reprimanded by his mother for either bullying his brother or pulling some kind of prank to wreak havoc on other's.

The Avatar's heart sank, "What did you do?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

Aang reached a hand out and planted it firmly on the boy's shoulder, "Obviously you do, Bumi. You wouldn't have wandered into my office if you didn't want to discuss it."

The boy glanced up at his father, his eyes taking in the ever-imposing blue arrows that marked him as the most powerful man on earth. With a visible shudder, he shook out of his father's hold.

"I don't want you to think differently of me."

The way Bumi was talking had Aang more concerned than ever before. Where was the young man who used throw fruit pies at the acolytes and run away laughing like a mad man? Why was this version of Bumi in front of him so cold and fearful of him?

"Bumi," His father said again, for what felt like the millionth time that night, "Nothing you could ever do can change what I think of you. I know you mean well, I know you're good intentioned. "

"It's really bad though," The young man's eyes turned upwards, his gaze full of uncharacteristic fear, "It's something you would never do, no matter the circumstances."

His father waited, not wanting to say a word, hoping that silence would prompt the boy into saying more. It did.

"I killed him, Dad."

Bumi could see in the way his father's eyes widened at his confession that he was shocked. He certainly had not been expecting that. Not wanting to see the disappointment that would surely appear in his eyes, the young man turned away and set his gaze on the moon hanging outside the window.

"I killed a man and didn't think twice about it," His voice grew soft, his eyes closing as he allowed the memory to engulf him, "There was fire everywhere and we were losing so many men. I saw a man dragging a little girl off and I recognized him as one of the rebels. The girl was screaming so loudly and no one was paying attention to her."

Bumi took in a deep breath, his voice tightening as he remembered the exact details, "She couldn't have been more than seven, Dad. I couldn't just let him drag her off. So I did the only thing I knew I could do. I went over and tried to grab her from his hold but he was a firebender and he was too strong. I couldn't wrestle her from his grip so I just –"

Before Bumi could continue his father had already turned him around, the boy allowing the apologies to flow from his lips as soon as he met his eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Dad," His voice began to quiver as he felt the tears beginning to form, "I knew the United Forces would require violence at times but I didn't want it to change who I was. I've done the one thing that I know you could never live with."

Ignoring his son's apologies, Aang gathered the shaking boy in to his arms just as he had when he was young. Though apologies continued to escape Bumi, the fabric of his father's robes muffled them as he wrapped his arms around him even tighter.

"Boom," Aang murmured, patting the young man on the back in an attempt to comfort him, "You did what the situation called for. For you there was no other way around it. You saved a life."

"That doesn't make what I did right."

Though the words were muffled, the Avatar understood them, "That's true. To kill someone is never the right answer. But in some situations there is no right or wrong. Whatever you had chosen to do in that moment, you wouldn't have been satisfied with. It was either living with the guilt of doing something or living with the guilt of doing nothing. You did what you thought you could live with."

Bumi pulled away from his father, his eyes red and face tearstained, "You wouldn't have done it though."

"You are not me, Bumi."

"The Air Nomads wouldn't have done it either."

"You don't know that," Aang reasoned, causing Bumi's brows to raise, "When we visited the Southern Air Temple the first time after the Fire Nation had attacked it, we found skeletons of soldiers who had perished in the fight."

"They may not have been killed by the airbenders."

"Maybe not," the Avatar agreed, patting his son on the shoulder, "But regardless, you are not an Air Nomad. You're Bumi."

Although his father had said those words in a way that was trying to make him feel better about the situation, Bumi could not deny that they stung a little.

"But I want to be more like them," He admitted, his eyes averting his father's own, "I want to be more like you. By doing this, I've ruined that."

Aang sighed; already knowing which direction the conversation was going in, "Bumi, this has not ruined that. You made a mistake, one that you seem to regret. If anything, this makes you more like them than anything. You acknowledge you made a mistake but you don't allow it to drag you down."

The young man pursed his lips but his father didn't allow him to avert his gaze.

"Boom, you aren't going to let this drag you down, right?"

He was silent for a moment, his shoulders falling forward in defeat. But when it looked as though the young soldier was going to admit defeat, he allowed a small smile to appear on his features.

"Nah," He wiped at his eyes, letting a quick breath of air release from his nostrils, "I put up a pretty good fight."

The Avatar smiled, "Yes, you do."

"The full moon's making me all emotional."

"I'm sure that's what it is."

Bumi smiled a little wider at his father's dubious response, although his eyes still contained the remnants of an inescapable guilt, "I don't think I'm ever going to get over it. But it feels better to have you know."

"You should have told me in the first place," His father insisted, taking him into another hug, "You can tell me anything. You should know that by now."

"I don't think mom would have let me have sea prunes for dinner if she knew so I figured this was the safest way."

Aang laughed quietly at that, running a hand through his son's wild hair.

Although Aang's response had calmed Bumi's nerves, he couldn't deny that the remorse he felt was still there. Though he had saved one life, he had ended another and nothing would ever change that.

But it was like his father said, either way he would have felt guilty and he would rather feel the guilt he did now by doing something, than living with the guilt of doing nothing.


End file.
